Wilson and congratulated him on the success which had attended
our efforts of that evening.

"It's a good thing you came out of it so well, sir," he said. "They were
a nasty pair of chaps, and would have thought as much of 'outing' you as
they would of drinking a pot of ale."

"But thank goodness, they didn't succeed," I replied. "As the saying
goes, 'a miss has never killed a man yet.' And now, Wilson, you'd better
be off home to bed. Turn out the gas before you go. Good-night!"

"Good-night, sir," he answered, and then I put on my hat and left the
office.

I found when I stepped into the street that the character of the night
had changed. Thick clouds obscured the sky, and a few drops of rain were
falling. At first I felt inclined to take a cab, but on second thoughts
I changed my mind, and putting up my umbrella strode along in the
direction of St. Martin's church.

The theatres were over by this time, and the streets were beginning to
grow empty. I passed the Gaiety where a middle-aged gentleman, decidedly
intoxicated, was engaged in a noisy altercation with a policeman, who
was threatening to take him to Bow Street if he did not go quietly home,
and at last approached the spot for which I was making. I took up my
position on the darker side of Holywell Street, and waited. So far I
seemed to have the thoroughfare to myself, but I had still some three or
four minutes to wait.

At last midnight sounded, and as I heard it I concealed myself more
carefully in my doorway and watched. I was not to be kept long in
suspense, for the new day was scarcely three minutes old, when a hansom
drove up to the other side of the church, and a man alighted. He paid
off the man and wished him good-night, and then came along the roadway
at the back of the church. From where I stood I could see his figure
distinctly, but was not able to distinguish his face. He was dressed in
a black cloak, and wore a deer-stalker hat upon his head. That he was
the man I wanted I felt sure, for what would any one else be doing there
at such an hour? That he was surprised at not finding his bravoes
awaiting him was very certain, for he looked up the street, down the
street, peered into Holywell Street, where, thank goodness, he did not
see me, then along the Strand in a westerly direction, and afterwards
came and took up his position within half-a-dozen paces of where I was
hidden. Presently he took a cigar-case from his pocket, opened it,
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